


Ecology

by aria_dc_al_fine



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Harem, Alternate Universe - Historical, Emperor Akashi, Implied Mpreg, M/M, More tags will appear as we go along, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4376075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aria_dc_al_fine/pseuds/aria_dc_al_fine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emperor Akashi’s harem is a perfected system</p><p>(Or so he thought, until they started leaving him one by one.)</p><p>Quotes from the latest chapter:<br/><i> “I hope you enjoyed our performance.”</i><br/> <br/>  <i>“Tremendously,” the monarch personally approached the Opera actor and lifted up his chin, purposely provoking his other guests. “It was delightful, Omega…” he trailed off.</i></p><p>  <i>“Kise,” The blonde caught on. “Kise Ryouta.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The magnificent Poinsettia

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by:  
> 1\. The Vindictive Paradise, by Bondmaiden http://archiveofourown.org/works/1127613  
> 2\. Steel Swallow, Copper Phoenix by Siana http://archiveofourown.org/works/2740031

Harems have always been part of empires.

At worst, they ate the institutions from the inside, dividing courts into factions eternally fighting against each other for power, self-serving eunuchs whispering ill-boded advices to low-ranked concubines desperate to overthrow high-born Noble Consorts, the latter of which had wealth and influential relatives at their disposal. Many a harem had served as little more than _distraction_ to the Emperor, a means to let the Cabinet pull strings behind a puppet ruler.

However, Akashi Seijuurou, his Dynasty’s 24th Emperor of the land of the Rising Sun, was immune.

* * *

“Good morning, Imperial Noble Consort Kise,” a chorus of young voices greeted the most beautiful Omega in the Forbidden City as he passed the corridor.

“Morning!” The broad-shouldered blonde beamed at the row of artfully arranged heads of flower-shaped gems and hairpins before him. “Please, be at ease!” navy blue silk rustled against shiny mahogany floor as the second highest ranking wife of the Emperor bent down to the first female attendant in his reach, slender fingers reaching for her chin as amber eyes, made more stunning by the black lines and rouge painted on his lids, twinkled.

The no-named Omega, so low down the chain [1] she was hardly part of the harem, blushed so red when she saw his face. Kise wondered if the blood vessels on her cheeks had burst. “N-no, I-I ca-can’t p-po-possibly-” she stuttered, and Kise wished she would just _breathe_ -

“Kise-chin, don’t dawdle,” Murasakibara droned from where the bearish figure was looming around the entrance of the Dining Hall. “Shouldn’t you be getting the run down on today’s guest from Aka-chin?”

“Don’t worry, Murasaki-cchi,” Kise gave his husband’s personal bodyguard a mock salute, “it’s not the first time I’m entertaining Prince Zhen Hua Gong.” [2]

“Whatever,” the purple-haired giant merely shrugged. “Just come in now so I can eat breakfast.”

The trinkets in his golden hair chimed with the bells of Kise’s laughter. “I thought you had one already?” He shuffled after the sluggish Alpha, his socked feet making no sound. As though he was a fairy gliding over the clouds.

The rest of the Attendants could only gaze longingly at the back of his stiff collar, which had been customarily styled to show off his nape and the purple mating bruise bestowed to him by the Emperor, but otherwise unadorned. Nothing to rub salt over the wounds of those with pale unbruised necks.

Imperial Noble Consort Kise Ryouta was just someone nobody could hate, after all.

* * *

Tradition dictated that titles were bestowed upon an Omega’s entry to the harem (and often, the rank reflected the power of the Omega’s family) but Akashi, who never followed tradition when it came to managing his harem, preferred to let everyone enter as Attendants, and gifted them higher ranks if and only if they proved their worth.

As such, a situation where a high-born Noble Consort brew trouble because of his or her jealousy over a lower-ranked favourite of the Emperor would _never_ arise.

Akashi didn’t have favourites; his favouritism was already reflected in the ranks.

Or so Akashi had believed, until Kuroko came along.

* * *

Before his puberty, Akashi Masaomi’s most trusted officials (the hardworking men, the diplomats who genuinely cared about the Empire) could only sigh when they looked at Seijuurou. ‘What a pity.’

Short, slender, and almost _dainty,_ with long lashes and his mother’s delicate features, everyone believed Seijuurou, the first son of the refined Kyoto beauty Consort Shouri and the fourth child of the Emperor, would present as an Omega.

 _What a pity_. Seijuurou’s intelligence and eloquence were remarkable. Poetry, martial arts, history, shogi – there wasn’t anything he didn’t excel in. Young aristocratic scholars and generals were _smitten_ , parading themselves in front of the Emperor hoping he would grant them the honour of accepting _Princess_ Seijuurou into their families. Others plotted to ship the Rose of the Palace to Cathay [3], to be handed to her Crown Prince on a silver platter.

His brothers and sisters, particularly the Betas and Omegas born before Seijuurou, had never looked more resentful when Seijuurou came of age exuding the pheromones of an Alpha.

Seijuurou himself had _never_ had any doubt of what secondary gender he would present as. He merely kept mum because the connections were useful, considering Consort Shouri’s reserved personality and lack of backings. Not that Seijuurou thought _anything_ about his mother could be found wanting. He loved her so much he would brought her back to life if he could.

On hindsight, it was _funny_ , Seijuurou supposed, to see most of his admirers fled the moment they realized he was _not_ a harmless, prized Omega, but the number 1 target of assassination by his older siblings and also the younger ones who would likely present as Alphas.

Well, there was one memorable exception.

Seijuurou stared at the gallant dark-haired figure kneeling before him with much regret.

“Your Highness, it would be an honour for me to have a lock of your hair,” Shuuzou of the Nijimura clan sought him the day before he were to depart to an expedition to Goryeo [4].

‘How could you look so brave, when my father has sent you off to faraway lands to forsake your life?’ Seijuurou thought as he complied, clipping the end of his ponytail neatly and placing the blood red stands into a pouch, not commenting on the fact that they were both Alphas and Nijimura needed not continue the courting he’d started.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” the warrior received his gift reverently, carefully slipping it under the folds of his kimono under Seijuurou’s watch. As he turned to leave, the crimson-haired royalty stopped him. “I would have chosen you, if I had presented as an Omega,” Seijuurou said _this_ , instead of the apology built-up in his chest.

Nijimura’s smirk surprised Seijuurou. “I appreciate the sentiment, Your Highness, but you’ve never once thought that you would not present as an Alpha, haven’t you?” _Oh, my, he hits the bull_ _’s eye_. “Besides,” he waved as he glanced at Seijuurou for the last time. “I wouldn’t want to make you a widower so soon.”

And that was how Seijuurou’s first love ended before it began.

* * *

Before he thought of _the rest_ , of how to best manage his harem (having grown up in one, taught how to survive in one, and seen how harmful a dysfunctional one could be), Akashi _knew_ who he’d choose as his first wife.

Midorima Shintarou had narrowed his green eyes at his childhood friend when Akashi arrived at his doorstep bearing chests of treasures and rolls of fine silk. Paid for by the last of his mother’s savings.

“Confident, aren’t you?” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his taped fingers.

Akashi’s gaze was direct. “Have you any reason to believe my claim for my inheritance will…” he frowned with disdain at having to let the word out into the air, “fail?”

To his credit, Shintarou didn’t negate him.

They stared at each other for a while, searching, until Shintarou sighed and reached for the frog figurine perched at his side. His lucky item of the day. “I hate hosting,” he said to the rug on the floor, lips pursed to a thin line.

To his surprise, Akashi merely chuckled. A servant approached the Alpha Princeling on the opposite site of the table – out of his beckoning, Shintarou supposed. The taller man paid no heed until a long, thin box was placed in front of him.

“Open it,” the crimson-haired Prince leaned forward and looked up at the first son of Count Midorima, Minister for Finance, beckoning with a small smile.

Shintarou subconsciously obeyed, and laid his eyes on the best-made bow he had ever seen in his life, the Yew supple and strong under his fingers, the grains straight and just plain _exquisite._

While Shintarou was still staring at the unconventional present, Prince Seijuurou held the Omega’s right hand.

“I’ll find someone else to do that,” there was no uncertainty in his voice, no derision in his crimson irises. “You just do what you do best.”

And that…was the kindest sentence anyone had told him so far.

* * *

Fast forward three years, and Akashi Seijuurou was crowned Emperor at seventeen, with his Grand Empress, Midorima Shintarou, at his side, his abdomen heavy with child.

It was only a matter of time.

* * *

The first part of the old system Akashi did away with was the selection for Consorts and Concubines which typically occurred every three years.

Akashi firmly believed that _more_ did not mean _better._

Of course, the reform was met with much resistance. Every noble family had been anticipating the selection since Emperor Masaomi stopped it due to old age and frail health. The disappointment and frustrations were beyond imagination.

“At least hold one,” Akashi’s ‘advisors’ yapped, “then, you can say you have enough wives-”

“They, **_you_** , will expect another,” the Emperor’s eyes were piercing as his sharp words cut through the arguments. “Can we discuss _real_ issues in this cabinet meeting?” he threw the rhetoric testily.

“Your Majesty-”

The slender Alpha rubbed his temple. “When an Omega can prove themselves useful, when I _want_ them, I will take them immediately. There is no need to parade them in front of me.”

The room was left with silence in the wake of his declaration.

Later, Midorima, his one and only wife at that time, scowled at him. “I hope you know what you’ve set for yourself,” the tall Omega huffed as he moved his shogi piece. “They’ll shove Omegas at you anytime, anywhere.”

“They’ll realise it’s an exercise in futility soon enough,” Akashi shrugged and he played his turn. “Please be a dear and get your ladies-in-waiting to gossip about how romantic I am, for staying loyal to you.”

Midorima scowled darkly at the board. How laughable. “There will be some ‘gifts’ you can’t refuse.”

“I expect so,” Akashi agreed idly as he delivered a checkmate. The bastard. “All within calculation.”

Midorima twitched. “By the way,” he put as much venom as he could to his toneless remark, “how much longer am I expected to play house with those insipid ladies-in-waiting you spoke of and kill your guests creatively in my head while _entertaining_ them?  This isn’t what you promised when you proposed.”

A shadow fell over his husband’s face. For a moment, Midorima thought he’d angered Akashi. There were times someone he didn’t know surfaced from the shorter man, someone whose eyes were so cold they could witness mutilation without so much as a blink.

“The court is not short of Omegas well-versed in weaving through superficiality,” the redhead finally said as his thumb rubbed over patches of skin not covered by tapes on Midorima’s left hand. “It is, however, short of those not already or potentially affiliated to anyone. I’m sorry, but please wait a little longer.”

The Grand Empress closed his eyes and exhaled deeply.

“I understand.”

* * *

To prove that his words weren’t an empty promise (and to let the monkeys running his government know that _this_ was the standard Akashi was looking for; no airheads in his household please, thank you), Akashi demanded that Mibuchi Reo join his harem.

He was an asset: charming, perceptive and precise, the second son of the Minister for Defense far exceeding the Emperor’s expectations.

Still, he couldn’t be the person Akashi and Midorima needed.

TBC

A/N: Comment, please! :)

I started this before my Twelve Kingdoms AU. Wanted to finish as one-shot, but the story kept growing (nothing new -_-) so I needed to cut it to several chapters. If it's not interesting, I'll discontinue it. Ciao~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. There are various ranks used in Ancient Chinese harems, and the ranking differs slightly as dynasties changed. The one I use is Qing Dynasty’s. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ranks_of_Imperial_Consorts_in_China  
> From highest to lowest:  
> \- Empress (Midorima) – only one can hold this title  
> \- Imperial Noble Consort (Kise) – only one can hold this title  
> \- Noble Consort (Reo) – two can hold the same title  
> \- Consort – four can hold the same title  
> \- Imperial Concubine – six can hold the same title  
> \- Attendants (unlimited)  
> 2\. Just the Chinese pin yin way of reading 'Hanamiya Makoto'  
> 3\. Refers to Ancient China  
> 4\. Refers to Ancient Korea


	2. Dandelions are stronger than Orchids

Kise Ryouta had nothing.

He was taken off the streets the moment someone from a travelling theatre troupe realized that he actually had a pretty face, when it was clean. He spent his childhood flitting through the audience, selling candies and refreshment, and fending off bullies who’d noticed that he could burrow into the hearts (and pockets) of many with his sunny smiles.

After realizing that he could mimic _anyone_ , Kise found a way to fight, clawing his way out of poverty and starvation tooth and nail and earned his spotlight as a Prima Donna, losing a part of himself on the way.

It’s all right. He had nothing, in the beginning.

* * *

“It’s him,” Akashi suddenly exclaimed.

Shintarou and Mibuchi, seated at both sides of the slender Alpha on the platform overlooking the stage, blinked. “Excuse me, Sei-chan?” Mibuchi asked, while the Grand Empress merely raised an eyebrow.

The crimson-haired ruler’s eyes were glued to the protagonist of the Opera they were watching, a tragic heroine played by a blonde actor who possessed what seemed to be the perfect bone structure – tall, broad-shouldered and long-limbed – his large, cat-like eyes gorgeous and expressive, his clear tenor voice emotionally-charged. Shintarou couldn’t see the arts as something other than an obligation of high-born Omegas, but Mibuchi appreciated them well enough and the latter had seemed impressed.

Akashi didn’t say another word, so Mibuchi returned his attention to the performance, but Shintarou’s gaze lingered. He could see the gears turning in his husband’s head.

An hour later, Shintarou had to admit that the blonde actor had skills. It wasn’t often borrowed emotions could make him wonder how it felt to be star-crossed lovers.

Toward the end, Akashi grabbed the sleeve of his new personal guard. “Tell the blonde actor to see me,” he commanded.

Murasakibara narrowed his eyes, as though he found the order annoying, but nodded, nonetheless.

“This is unexpected,” Mibuchi couldn’t have voiced out Shintarou’s opinions better. “I didn’t peg you as someone who would be attracted by universal beauty and act on his libido.”

Akashi merely flashed his wives an enigmatic smile, before he rose to his feet and clapped as loudly as he could.

* * *

The evening his troupe had _the one_ chance to perform before the Emperor, everyone was so tense they moved like they had no joints.

Kise was nervous, too, but he put on his best grin and smacked his fellow performers on the shoulders. “Let’s go out there and dazzle the booty out of his Majesty!”

“Oh, that rhymes!” conductor Izuki Shun chirped, before his voice was drowned by the groans of other cast members. “Please, spare us!” Alpha lead Hyuuga Junpei threw a prop flower at his colleague.

The mood was completely different after the curtain call.

“Did you see that? Did you see that?” Koganei was so excited. Even Mitobe nodded more energetically.

Riko pumped her fist in the air. “The Emperor gave a standing ovation!” The stage manager’s eyes glinted. “Imagine the steady stream of income if he contracts us-”

“Ri-cchi!” Kise gasped, pretending to be scandalized, and couldn’t help but laughed. It had been a while since he was so damn happy. It wasn’t easy finding a troupe he could feel at home with; Seirin was a gem the blonde Omega had the luck to stumble upon, after countless hellish others he’d shed unnecessary tears, sweat and blood for-

“Hey, you,” a giant looming at the entrance interrupted, and the merriment met an abrupt death. Everyone was staring at the purple-haired man who had the most bored expression on his face as he lifted his point finger, “The corn-haired one.”

“Me?” Kise was startled. ‘This is the first time I hear my hair described as food!’

“Yes, you,” the armoured man yawned. “Follow me,” he stalked off without looking back to ascertain that he was obeyed.

From the corner of his eyes, Kise saw Seirin members communicating silently before Riko gave him a push. “He’s the Emperor’s bodyguard.” Kise knew. Anyone would remember someone that striking in height and mass, standing behind the ruler’s sunset-red-haired figure. “Whatever he wants from you…please…” the brunette trembled. “I’m sorry, I’m pimping you, I won’t deny it-” her eyes turned glossy.

“It’s not your fault, Ri-cchi,” Kise patted her on the shoulder.

 _It'_ _s Fate_ _’s fault we were born poor and powerless._

So Kise steeled his heart and hurried after the giant, whose long legs had brought him considerably ahead. The two climbed staircases and walked through hallways after hallways, passing by rooms from which obscene moans and giggles seeped out. Kise dug his nails into his palm as he told himself to _ignore them ignore them ignore them-_

“Here we are,” the bodyguard announced. Kise very nearly bumped into him, and scrambled to right his facial expression as the lavish paper door – of phoenix painted in _gold_ – was slid open.

The show must go on.

* * *

Conversations halted as Atsushi escorted the blonde beauty into the room. He was even more striking with the white theatrical foundation and thick cosmetics washed off his face, his skin smooth and a little flushed, his lashes naturally long.

The silence was gone the moment Akashi’s guest was deposited at his side, the seat Shintarou had vacated, having excused himself for feeling unwell (speculations of a second pregnancy had flooded the room then, Akashi’s only response an enigmatic smile. ‘My wife was only sick of _you_ ,’ how he had longed to say.)

‘What on earth-’

‘He is sitting at the Empress’ place!’

‘Why is he here?’

‘Ah, the pretty butterfly has caught His Majesty’s fancy. Don’t worry, my daughter. It won’t last.’

Whispers filled the room once again, the annoying buzzing of bees.

Akashi paid them no mind. No, his attention was entirely on how calmly the blonde was holding himself, his expression polite and cheerful.

“Thank you very much for your invitation, Your Majesty,” he kowtowed gracefully in one fluid movement. As expected of an artist. “I hope you enjoyed our performance.”

“Tremendously,” the monarch personally approached the blonde and lifted up his chin, purposely provoking his audience. “It was delightful, Omega…” he trailed off. [1]

“Kise,” The blonde caught on. “Kise Ryouta.”

“Ryouta,” Akashi repeated winningly, his voice silky slick. He had never forgotten how to seduce.

Ryouta blinked, more confused rather than frazzled like Akashi had predicted. Interesting.

“Please have some wine, Ryouta,” Akashi motioned for a maid to come over.

The other aristocrats Akashi was entertaining, who had brought their Omega sons and daughters along, hoping to impress the Emperor into taking them into his harem, took it as a cue to double their antes. ‘Can’t have the commoner leave us in the dust!’ Akashi heard one of them hiss, and wanted to laugh.

“Kise-san, other than ‘Butterfly Lovers’ [2], what other plays have you acted in?”

“There have been many,” the blonde replied amicably, “Legend of the White Snake, Lady Meng Jiang, Princess Kaguya, the Cowherd and the Weaving Maid-” [2]

“You must be so well-suited to the role of a tragic heroine!” Ryouta was interrupted, the sarcastic tone implying that that was to be his role in real life as well.

Instead of facing the mockery with an unmovable smile like Akashi had expected, Ryouta placed his hand on his chest. “Ah, so you’ve uncovered my secret of using tears to thaw the coldest hearts,” he joked overdramatically and winked. “But I heard crying too much may cause wrinkles, so please don’t imitate me.”

The other Omegas stared. And giggled. “Oh, Kise-san, you’re such a smooth talker!”

As the banquet proceeded, it became clear that Ryouta was winning over the females. He had a way of praising and paying attention to them patiently, further helped by his generous sharing of beauty tips.

The male Omegas were not going to let it lie. “Let’s play a game!” One of them proposed. “Let’s play Karuta!” [3]

The suggestion was accepted warmly, and before long, the centre of the room had been cleared and the cards splayed out.

“Kise-san, play with us!”

“A-ah,” the blonde looked overwhelmed as he stared at the kanji on the cards. “I…can’t read.”

“I see…” They replied, their smiles just a fraction away from a sneer. “What a pity…”

“You can still include Ryouta,” Akashi cut off. “Instead of scrambling for the associated cards, you can quote the continuation of the poems verbatim,” he recommended.

“O-oh, Sei-chan, you’re a sadist,” Reo chuckled, “That’s harder, isn’t it?”

“But I’m sure it won’t be a hurdle to all of you, will it?” Akashi smiled challengingly.

“O-of course!” They couldn’t back down.

As the splayed out cards were put back into the box, the Emperor asked his wife to read the prompts. “Reo, would you be a dear…?”

The dark-haired beauty leaned close to Akashi in the pretence of getting to his feet. “Are you sure I shouldn’t be helping him instead?” he whispered.

The Alpha smirked. “If he can’t pass this test, he is not worthy. This is all there is to it.”

“A sadist indeed,” Reo mirrored the expression, and picked up a card. “ _The spring has passed/and the summer comes again_ _…_ ” he began lyrically.

As the Omegas were mulling over the continuation, Ryouta raised his hand. “Me! I know!”

The Noble Consort shrugged at him. “Please, then, Ryou-chan.”

“Ryou-cha-” the blonde blanched, before he took a deep breath. “ _For the silk-white robes/so they say, are spread to dry/on the Mount of Heaven_ _’s perfume._ ”

Reo beamed. “Correct!”

Ryouta’s opponents turned to the blonde in disbelief.

“Really?”

“Show me the card!”

So they huddled around the card, but Akashi didn’t need to squint and scrutinize it like they were doing to know. He remembered. Ryouta was correct.

“Next one,” they begrudgingly accepted as the card was returned to the blonde.

Reo cleared his throat. “ _If the maple leaves/on Ogura mountain_ _…”_

Ryouta raised his hand again, and started as Reo gestured at him. “ _Could only have hearts/They would longingly await/the Emperor_ _’s pilgrimage._ ”

“Oh, my,” Reo looked gleeful as he handed Ryouta the second card he’d won consecutively, “we have a genius here, eh?”

“Not at all!” the blonde grinned sheepishly. “The script-writer Mitobe would only have Riko – the only person in the troupe who knows kanji – read the play once to the team before we rehearse. We have to remember most of our lines after the first read. I’m just used to it.”

And of course, as the lead role, Ryouta had the most lines.

 _You only have what you have because of privilege,_ Akashi thought as he spied the looks on his nobles’ faces. _But Ryouta, he_ _’s someone who_ _’s fought and earned what he has._

“Let’s play another game,” someone chimed, and Akashi sighed.

“Reo,” he called, his voice soft but impactful.

The whole room watched the Emperor as he rose to his feet. “I’m tired, please accompany me. Ryouta, you too,” everyone was so quiet one could hear a pin drop as Akashi addressed his guests. “Please go on without me. I’m sorry for my departure.”

Bitterness crossed the expressions of some of the Omegas and Alphas there, before all was hidden when they bowed their heads. “Long live the Emperor,” they chanted.

The blonde was silent as he followed Akashi, Reo and Atsushi to the monarch’s chambers. He was visibly tense when Akashi settled down next to the little round table in the middle of his living room, well away from the windows and walls which had ears. “Would you like some chrysanthemum tea? They’re from the best harvest this year,” the redhead offered as he poured a cup for his second wife.

"No, thank you, Your Majesty," Ryouta stared at the yellow flower slowly unfurling on the calm surface of the honey gold liquid in the porcelain intently, before dropping to his knees.

The Opera actor flashed a resplendent smile as he clasped his hands together respectfully. “Your Majesty, since you have enjoyed our humble offering, may I offer you an encore at times of your choosing?”

“Sure,” Akashi crossed his legs languidly. Anyone in Ryouta’s current predicament would have cracked or presumed his monarch’s intentions and started seducing in the earnest. But Ryouta kept his opportunities open. “You have the power to contract troupes, as my Imperial Concubine.”

* * *

Kise inhaled sharply. “Y-your Majesty?”

The Son of Heaven stepped closer. Kise forced himself to be still when slender fingers reached for the back of his head. “I don’t like to repeat myself,” here it come again, that syrupy cadence. Kise had never met any Alpha who could sound like that.

Kise scrunched his eyes shut as those fingers started pushing his collar back. _Better I tell him than he finding out himself._ “I’m already bound,” the blonde admitted through the lump in his throat.

As expected, the Emperor’s hand froze.

That same voice was cold as ice the next moment. “Do you love your Alpha so much?”

Images of Haizaki’s cruel sneers, hurtful insults and violent touches that made the blonde recoil filled his head.

And the worst thing was…Kise had come to the silver-haired Alpha of his own volition.

(An orphaned prepubescent Omega was free game, after all, with no protections or resources.)

“No!” Kise’s eyes flew open. His cheeks burned in shame when he realized he’d lost his composure for the first time. He knocked his forehead on the ground. “I-”

“Then there is no problem,” nails dug into Kise’s nape, into the fading mating bruise, the ever-present reminder of his worst nightmare years ago. “I am confident I can overthrow your Alpha’s claim. Of course, all is useless if your heart is not with me.”

Kise nearly gaped. The strongest Alpha in the empire, vowing to fight to the death over _him_ if Haizaki ever contested his right as Kise’s mate.

Him, a _used goods_.

The beautiful redhead raised a fine brow at the blonde, mismatched crimson and amber eyes watching him. “Well?”

Kise bent his head in as graceful an arc as humanly possible, and presented his tainted neck to his sovereign.

“Your Majesty, all of me belongs to you.”

TBC

Comment please :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. ‘Omega XXX’ and ‘Alpha XXX’ is used like Miss XXX / Mr XXX here.  
> 2\. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Butterfly_Lovers  
> The other titles are all famous Ancient Chinese tragic love stories.  
> 3\. Karuta is a game of cards, where players hear the prompter read out the beginning of a poem, and have to grab the card depicting/with words of continuation of the poem. The faster one gets the card and the one who accumulates more cards win. I think. Sorry if I'm wrong, I didn’t watch Chihayafuru. Read more here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karuta


End file.
